


when i first saw you

by siriusblacks



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fanboy Harry, Harry hates Niall, Harry writes/reads Drarry and Wolfstar fanfictions, M/M, Party, Popular Louis, Underage Drinking, and harry meets a cute ass boy with cerulean eyes and assumedly muscled legs, and the party is boring, but basically, i really don’t know what to tag this, niall drags harry to a party on christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblacks/pseuds/siriusblacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall forces Harry to go to the most boring party of the year, and Harry meets someone very interesting whom he can rant to about how boring this party is.</p><p>(based off the prompt: http://shuck-you-lightworm.tumblr.com/post/133280666594/my-friend-dragged-me-to-a-party-and-then)</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i first saw you

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Sinai for betaing this for me! Good luck with loving babies again despite everything your nephew did, omg.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! Feel free to correct any mistakes you come across because every time I reread this I find a bunch of mistakes, smh. I’m just a lil self-taught fifteen-year-old, so don’t be harsh. (Contact me if you’d like to beta or edit anything I write (:)
> 
> Reminder that I unfortunately don’t own One Direction. Title from Perfect.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The possibilities of what Harry could be doing during this lovely Friday night are almost endless. He could be taking bad nudes on his bathroom mirror, or he could be be rereading the Harry Potter Series for the sixth time. He could be writing dirty and unrealistic Drarry fan-fictions. He could be binge-watching cartoons from the ’nineties and horror movies from the ’eighties. He could be working on his secret world domination plan or maybe spreading peace, love and flower-crowns. He could be trying on his sister’s make-up before she came home or painting the walls of his room in black. Or, gods forbid, Harry could actually be studying for his midterm exams but _no._

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀However, the actual _choices_  Harry had, unlike the possibilities, weren’t almost endless. In fact, they were very limited and specific. Especially when Niall showed up at his doorstep, dressed in baggy jeans and a (very ugly) red polo under a jacket, and he had sunglasses on (because it was as if the sunglasses totally made up for any coolness that this damned red polo had killed off.)

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Shut up, you’re coming,” Niall had huffed, repeating his words from earlier as he pushed Harry into the car when the younger boy tried to make excuses and just say _no_. “Be grateful that you’re still in school’s clothes because I wasn’t going to wait for your sorry ass to get dressed. God knows your hair will be done by the time the party is.”

  


⠀⠀⠀⠀And this was the story of how Harry Styles ended up in a party at someone’s house. It was obviously a Christmas party but he couldn’t care less about whose party it was or why there were no Christmas-themed decorations; all what he could care about was the fact that his asshole of a friend had fucking dragged him to a dry-looking party without any warning just to completely disappear and leave him alone, all by himself with no one with him and just —

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Alone and bored.

  


⠀⠀⠀⠀However, there was cute, older-looking, blue-eyed boy staring at him from across the room. (It wasn’t Niall, though, Niall was gone and he’ll be gone from the surface of this planet once Harry finds him.) Harry sat on the couch, awkwardly standing up and turning away when two girls — who have been making out for years, right beside him — decided to use his lap as a pillow. (Niall would’ve liked that. Harry would like to punch Niall.) He walked, his shoulders sagging in laziness, his back bent out of habit (it was a bad habit he couldn’t get rid of. Same with nail-biting and rambling. His mother always told him that his spine would curve and that he would have back-problems in the future but Harry was extremely sure that his back would arch and straighten enough times for it to be cured — if you get what he means. Or _how_ he means for it to happen. He would rather not tell his mother, though.)

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀The boy was gone and Harry went back to being internally angry over Niall since he could no longer stare back at the pretty boy. Harry could recall how the boy’s eyes had shone brightly in the light illuminating his eyes, reflecting it which meant that they had to be a clear shade of blue or grey (maybe green, but Harry doubts it. One of Newton’s rules insisted that the only green-eyed humans had to be called Harry. Seriously, though, other than fictional characters and himself (and that ginger who flirted with him when he snuck into Gemma’s birthday party when he was supposed to be sleeping over at Niall’s) he had never met someone with green eyes.) Harry thought they were most likely blue. The boy’s hair appeared to be so feathery and messy; it looked like he had just woken up or spent seven years working on it — but nowhere in between. He was wearing a black tank-top and fitting denim jeans that were neither too big on his small frame (like Niall’s. Niall was an asshole. Why were he and Harry friends?) nor too tight (which was pretty unfortunate since Harry was sure that this was a footie player — which meant defined leg muscles. Defined calves, thighs and ass.)

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀He was pretty and hot but he was also gone, so Harry had to move on. Hard. He stood up from the stool he nestled on earlier and walked to the kitchen, where there was a punch bowl and two boys and a girl making out all together. He ignored them and poured a shot for himself before downing it and turning around —

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Only to bump into the infamous blue-eyed (yes, blue-eyed. Cerulean-eyed,) feather-haired, and probably-leg-defined angel he sorta fell in love with just twenty minutes earlier. Still functioning and completely conscious, he decided to let go of the bumping without much of an apology or greeting and walked past the boy, mentally screaming.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀But the boy had maybe bumped into him on purpose because he just grabbed Harry’s wrist and stopped him before jumping in front of him, standing between of him and the door. Harry blinked, confused.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Uh, hello!” The boy said, “are you having fun so far?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Harry tilted his head, leaning back against the counter. With a nonchalant smile, he shook his head. “I don’t go to a lot of parties but this still is the worst one so far.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Raising his eyebrows, the boy asked, “ _really_ , now. Why?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“It’s quite boring,” Harry huffed, the way it came out sounded childish in his head. The boy nodded in agreement before urging him on. “Not to sound too full of myself but I’ve been here for half an hour and no one approached me until you. Almost killed my self esteem.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m surprised I’m the first but genuinely grateful at the same time,” Louis winked, jokingly. He was _obviously_  joking. Harry still blushed slightly.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m Harry,” he decided to say after a few seconds of silence.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“And I’m Louis,” Louis smiled, “and I think that you’re absolutely gorgeous. What are you doing here anyways? I don’t remember seeing you at school,” he paused. Harry blushed as Louis’ eyes trailed from Harry’s face to his feet and back up to his eyes, where he stared intently. Harry felt as if Louis was seeing right through his soul. Louis continued, “and I know that I would never forget a face like yours.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m not that known,” Harry shrugged, still slightly blushing. “I usually lie low and spend lunchtime reading in the library.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Louis didn’t need to know what Harry exactly read. He didn’t need to know that by reading, Harry meant Drarry and Wolfstar fanfictions on his phone.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Ah,” Louis nodded, “well, if you ever feel like it, know that a seat right next to mine on the team’s table will always be reserved for you. Still, you don’t look like you’re a party animal.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Sounds amazing to me,” Harry smiled, looking down at his feet as he thought, _you better not change your mind later on tonight, Tomlinson._ Still looking at his feet and the tiles underneath, a stray curl fell on his face so he whipped his head back up to make it fly away, only to hit Louis’ fingers with his forehead.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Uh, sorry, you had some hair and I —“

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“It’s alright,” Harry giggled. He giggled. Where the fuck was Niall? “And uh, my friend dragged me here without my consent. He didn’t even give me time to get dressed — I’m still in my school clothes.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“So you wouldn’t be here if he didn’t bring you?” Louis pouted, instantly adding, “I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for him?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’d rather have met you somewhere else,” Harry snorted, “this party is so ugly. It’s so boring and the music is more like a radio connected to speakers — too loud for me to think. And in the places where the music is tolerable, people are having sex. There’s no food and the punch is sour and weird-tasting.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Louis nodded, taking in Harry’s rant. “There’s nothing you like in here? Not even me?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Maybe just you and those portraits of children on the staircase,“ Harry grinned, and he didn’t know where the following question and confidence had appeared from but he just: “can we take this somewhere since I _really_  like you, already, and _really_  hate the party... already?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m sure we can but did you say ‘happy birthday’ to the host yet?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I thought this was a Christmas party,” Harry gasped, genuinely shocked, “this explains the lack of mistletoes. Not that any more making out is needed —“

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“We should make —“

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“— but. Whatever. We should leave now, I don’t know the host, Lou, I’ll wish them a happy birthday if I see them. Tell me if you do cause I don’t know who it is,” Harry said.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“You talk a lot,” Louis commented, “not that it’s bad.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“The party’s bad,” Harry grinned, “and I was actually hoping you’d cut me off with a kiss.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Are you, Harry Middle-name Last-name, asking me to kiss you?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“It’s Harry Edward Styles and ye—“

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀And Louis cut of Harry with a kiss, just like the younger fanboy had hoped for. To Harry, Louis’ lips were thinner than his and together, they were like two pieces of a puzzle that finally found each other. It was chaste, at first, then Louis’ tongue joined in and Harry was inhaling Louis’ breathes — grasping at Louis’ cheeks as if his lungs would fill with oxygen at the mere contact of his fingers and Louis’ soft skin. Louis’ hands held onto Harry’s hips, keeping him in place while pushing him against the counter at the same time, trying to deepen the kiss.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Suddenly, someone was calling out their names loudly and Harry had to push away Louis — he really needed to breathe. He wished he didn’t, though, just so that he could keep kissing Louis. Looking behind Louis, at Niall, with his glistening eyes, he glared.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“So you don’t _just_ kidnap then abandon me in this shitty ass party. You _also_ decide to cockblock us,” Harry snapped at the irish boy, his hands still on Louis’ face and in his hair. He shuddered at how breathless he sounded. Louis smirked.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀He probably smirked because he found Harry being annoyed for the interruption adorable, obviously. Or maybe Harry looked too flustered and frustrated and Louis was low-key sadistic or something. Not like there could be any other reasons —

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Uh,” Niall coughed awkwardly, tugging on the collar of his ugly (cute) red polo, “I see you met our birthday boy?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Wait. What.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“It’s... your birthday?” Harry whispered, looking down at Louis with wide eyes.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Niall laughed like the little shit he was. “He’s having this party for his birthday, not Christmas, you doof.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“You’re the host,” Harry realised, “I — oh.”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀He talked to Louis about how he was dragged to this ugly party and how boring it was and how he regretted coming and how he would rather be anywhere else and —

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Oh, gods. This was Louis’ birthday party. How embarassing was that? And Louis kept smirking, encouraging him to continue and fucking laughing all the time and it just hit Harry that Louis wasn’t laughing with him as much as he was laughing _at_ him. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m sorry,” he squeaked. He felt too hot and he was sure that he was as red as an apple. Niall’s laughing disappeared into the crowd, which helped him a lot because this wasn’t fucking funny, he embarrassed himself in front of one of the hottest people he had ever met and genuinely liked and this was horrible. He also winced at the loss of Niall because it meant that he had to face Louis by himself and oh, shit. He wasn’t ready to embarrass himself even furthermore.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Louis’ hands were still on his waist; Harry would almost have forgotten about the sensation until Louis suddenly grasped him tighter, causing him to jump and hit the small of his back against the edge of the counter.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Frankly, I think the party’s boring anyways, just like you do. So stop worrying about this,” Louis said, eyes twinkling, “could you maybe make my birthday better and worth remembering?”

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀Louis was so cheesy and sappy. But was Harry so who was he to judge? Besides, he should be grateful that Louis took the blunt rudeness and criticism about his party very well. And the fact that he wasn’t invited

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Uh, it depends really on whether the seat next to you on your lunch-table is still reserved for me or not,” Harry bit his lip, brushing his hand softly against Louis’ arms.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀The rest of the night was written down in capital letters on Harry’s tumblr. The two days after it were summarised in the screenshoots Harry sent to Niall, which were all of his endless and continuous conversation with Louis that involved a lot of emojis and a ton of fondness. On Monday, Harry sat next to Louis and enjoyed it more than reading fluffy fanfictions which said a lot.

 

⠀⠀⠀⠀(He sat next to Louis on Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday. On Friday, they skipped school together. Harry forever will be grateful to his asshole of a friend who always wore a goddamned red polo for dragging him to the worst party of the year because he ended up meeting a beautiful blue-eyed, feather-haired lad with legs that were definitely defined.)

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, again! I hope I did the prompt justice (: any opinions and thoughts? Comments and Kudos are deeply appreciated. ❤️


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